


Future Reflections of the Past

by amaresu



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Gen, tardis_gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-19
Updated: 2009-09-19
Packaged: 2017-10-02 12:04:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amaresu/pseuds/amaresu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Susan is once again offered the chance to leave her home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Future Reflections of the Past

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Rodlox in the tardis_gen ficathon. Thanks to agapi42 for the beta

“It's tempting,” her grandmother repeats and Susan can hear the doubt in her voice. “That doesn't sound like a yes.”

“It's not. I'm not saying no either.” Standing on the front porch of her house, Susan looks out onto the garden. A slight breeze is causing the swings on the play set to slowly swing back and forth, the metal creaking loudly in the still night air. “Do you remember when I went to the Academy?”

Her grandmother snorts in reply and again Susan has to fight the urge to giggle. Her grandmother stays silent for several minutes, the groan of the swing set is the loudest sound, before giving in, “What does that have to do with anything? Especially now?”

“Nothing. Everything, maybe.” If there was one particular day that influenced the rest of her life, Susan would say it was her Academy Celebration. It was so long ago now, but she still remembers the excitement she had felt at knowing she was about to go to the Academy. She'd been terrified at the thought of leaving the House, but the Academy was something of a mystical place to her at that age. Her parents, and everyone else who lived in the House, always spoke of it with something close to reverence in their voices.

“You followed us around for half the night.” Susan is jolted from her memories as her grandmother speaks. “We thought you'd never actually say anything, just stare at us.”

“I'd never met either of you before that.” She can feel herself blushing at the memory. “No one ever talked about either of you two: I was curious.”

“Your parents were ashamed of us.” Her grandmother snorts again, softly, before continuing, “It was the first time we'd been allowed to see you. Their great love of tradition made it impossible for them to refuse.”

Susan remembers the arguments that had taken place over that, her parents yelling late at night when she was supposed to be in bed. Tradition was the way of things on Gallifrey and she was glad that it had prevailed once more: her life was set on a new course that night. “Do you remember what Grandfather told me?”

“When you finally came out from behind the sofa and sat down with us?” Her grandmother is smiling now and Susan nods at her to continue. “Something to do with the Academy and tradition, wasn't it?”

“You don't remember?” Her grandmother shakes her head in response. “I'll never forget it. He said, 'Gallifrey and the Academy are both stepped in tradition, child. The rest of the universe is seen as inferior and any knowledge outside of the Great Curriculum is deemed not worth knowing. What you learn at the Academy will be worth knowing, but never forget that there is more to know, more to see. We Time Lords aren't nearly as magnificent as we believe ourselves to be. Don't lose yourself in the tradition.'”

Standing next to her, her grandmother remains silent for a moment before she laughs. “That sounds like him. Pompous, arrogant, and far too accurate. I wonder what he would've followed that with if your parents hadn't shown up to chase us off?”

Susan doesn't respond. Instead, she looks out at the empty yard: the swing that hasn't seen any children in far too many years. It had been thirty years before she saw her grandfather again and another five before she saw her grandmother. By then she'd been at the Academy long enough to know all of the good stories about them and realize just how accurate her grandfather had been. “He was right, you know.”

“Of course he was.” It's a statement more than a reply, spoken softly and with bitterness thick in her voice. “But what does that have to do with the matter at hand? Will you come with me or are you going to stay here?”

Susan doesn't reply right away. She knows that she'll leave with her grandmother, but she needs to work up to it. Earth had become her home so long ago that Gallifrey was nothing more then a few memories. She found it hard to even work up grief over its loss, but Gallifrey wasn't the reason she would be going with her grandmother. “I think I've fallen into the same trap. I stopped doing anything new with my life almost two regenerations ago. I'm doing things now because I've always done them and I think Grandfather would be most upset with me for that.”

She doesn't get a reply and she wasn't expecting one. The question of whether or not she will go with her grandmother has been answered. Susan can't stay on Earth anymore. She's been on this planet for too long and she's more than a little afraid that she won't remember how to be anywhere else. For a moment, she contemplates just walking away, leaving everything in the house for whoever comes to claim it. Instead, she turns around and goes inside.

It will only take a few hours to make sure everything is left in a proper state for the next people to move in. She almost feels a renewed love for her life on Earth as she washes the dishes from dinner, but it fades as she realizes that it's not that she wants to stay: it's the knowledge that it will be the last time she does any of these chores. Once the dishes and worktops are clean, she sets about emptying the refrigerator. Staring at the pile of food to be thrown in the rubbish bin, Susan can't help but feel a sense of freedom. She's loved Earth and she loved David, but it was time for her to leave long ago.

The kitchen ends up being the only room in the house she cleans. Instead, she finds herself standing in the living room looking at the pictures on the wall. She can vividly remember the mad run from Gallifrey with her grandfather, when there hadn't been time to pack anything, leaving her sorely regretting the lack of pictures for decades. This time, she's not in a hurry to leave her home so when she rejoins her grandmother on the porch, it's with a bag of photographs in her hand.

“Is that all you're going to take with you?” her grandmother asks, as they step off the porch and start to walk along the path to her TARDIS.

“Yes, it's all I want to take.” Inside the bag are dozens of pictures of David, their children, their grandchildren, and the many friends they had through the years. Her memories are all she has left of them and so her memories are all she'll be taking.


End file.
